


Perfect Little Baby

by Anonymous



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Regression/De-Aging DD/lg, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Consensual Non-Consent, Consent, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Diapers, Emotional Manipulation, Food Issues, Hand Jobs, I know that’s not what you’d expect from DDlg, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Infantilism, M/M, Mentions of male lactation, Oral Fixation, Rough Sex, Spitefic, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tit Sucking, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, bottle feeding, kinda implied piss play, might be triggering for people with eating disorders, two consenting adults roleplaying a non-con situation, yes I sexualised breastfeeding come and get me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Read the tags. This works contains infantilization and rape roleplay. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30
Collections: Anonymous





	Perfect Little Baby

**Author's Note:**

> I repeat, **READ THE TAGS!**
> 
> This work is an absolute shitfest. Wrong on so many levels. Read at your own risk.
> 
> Also, inspired by the fic [Milk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811762).
> 
> Enjoy! ;)

“‘M hungry, Daddy…” Rhys whines, rubbing his weeping eyes with his hand. He is lying on his belly between the CEO’s legs, partially resting on the older man’s chest, and he is looking up at him pleadingly.

It is true that Jack woke up especially late today and Rhys didn’t have anything to eat in fourteen hours. But it is also true that seeing him miserable like that is making Jack harden in his pants, cock pushing into his baby’s soft belly. He places the bottle of milk on the nightstand for now, stroking Rhys’ hair gently.

“Your milk is still too hot, baby, you gotta wait a while,” he lies in a sweet voice, watching more tears spill from the younger man’s eyes. “But if you’re real hungry,” he adds, nails scraping gently against the baby’s scalp, “you can suckle on Daddy’s titty. Do you want Daddy’s milk?”

Rhys nods eagerly, shuffling forward to reach Jack’s chest. His eyes lighten up a little, as if he really believed that he would get some milk from Jack’s breast. He waits while the CEO takes off his sleepshirt and then latches onto his nipple. Jack’s tits are squishy and his nipples puffy, filling the baby’s mouth sufficiently. Jack has never been prouder of his dad bod than he was when he could use it against the younger man.

Saliva soon starts rolling down the CEO’s chest as the younger man sucks and licks, trying to get the male tit to give him some food. On some days, Jack thinks that it is just a matter of time until Rhys’ determination wins over nature and he will force his Daddy to lactate. Well, determination combined with childish naivety.

It is one of the best things about Rhys. He was only nineteen but so, so ambitious when he arrived to Helios among the new batch of interns. He thought he would make it far, climb the corporate ladder, and so he set to work, harder than anyone else, only to be whisked away by the CEO and hired as a live-in PA, which was really just a guise for this.

At first, Jack just really wanted to fuck the young student. But as he talked to him, he got a better idea, and from there, it wasn’t hard to get Rhys to change his plans and move in with Jack, adopting this strange and extremely kinky lifestyle with him instead of working his life away in the corporate. Now freshly twenty years old, Rhys, like many other people in his age, is too lost in the new world of responsibilities and he is grateful to be rid of them.

Jack’s nipple is beginning to ache under the constant stimulation, so he gently pulls Rhys’ head away from his chest by his hair. The baby pouts at him, tears returning to his eyes, but he shushes him before the waterworks can begin. “Shh, Rhysie, I think your milk is ready,” he says with a smile, reaching for the bottle that is still pretty warm, thankfully. “Open up,” he prompts, shoving the nipple into the waiting mouth.

Rhys suckles like a true baby would, his eyes slowly falling shut. He keeps gazing at Jack through the slits between his heavy lids, admiration and content mixing on his tear-streaked face. He never comments on the strange taste of the milk, seeming satisfied with whatever Jack feeds him. He drinks the mixture of cum and milk as if it was the only meal in the world, sometimes even asking for more and never asking where does Jack get his hands on so much cum. Some of it is his and Rhys’ own, but most of it… Well, Helios has black market for everything.

When the bottle is empty, Rhys opens his moth to ask for more, but Jack shushes him, looking at the digital watch on his nightstand. “No more milk, baby, lunch is in little over an hour. Don’t want to have full belly before lunch, right?”

Rhys nods, although quite sorrowfully. He opens his mouth again, this time to let out a small burp, for which Jack rewards him with a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. It makes Rhys giggle, so Jack repeats it a couple times, making sure that his baby is happy before they finally get to their morning routine.

“Okay, off to the bathroom we go!” he says, helping Rhys get off the bed and heading in the direction of the baby’s bathroom while Rhys follows him crawling as best as he can with only one arm.

The younger man has his own room and bathroom, made specially for their needs. There is a changing table sturdy enough to hold the weight of a grown man, and also at the perfect height for Jack. Rhys’ bed is a big cot, the opening mechanism equipped with a lock operated by fingerprint, so the baby can’t open it and hurt himself. There are many toys, all of them kids friendly, and a fluffy rug where Rhys can play all day long.

Rhys’ bathroom is smaller than Jack’s as he doesn’t need many cupboards and shelves or a shower. He has a bathtub, a toilet that he is not allowed to use on his own, his potty and a sink with a small cupboard secured with a lock. There are things like waxing strips and similar hair-removal stuff for the parts of Rhys’ body that avoided the laser removal treatment so far. Ideally, he won’t need them in the future.

Jack runs the bath while Rhys seems to be doing everything to make it difficult for him, clinging to his legs and refusing to cooperate. The Daddy can’t really be mad at him, though, seeing as he left him in the cot for fourteen hours tonight while he was sleeping off a hungover. His baby has the right to be clingy today.

Even stripping Rhys of his pyjamas turns out to be an ordeal, and the Daddy is forced to raise his voice several times until finally, the clothes are off. He lets Rhys lay on a warm, fluffy rug in the middle of the bathroom while he takes off his soiled nappy and cleans him up a little, and then he helps him get into the tub.

Rhys plays with his rubber duckies while Jack washes his hair and bathes him with a washcloth. He likes nice-smelling bubble baths and glittery bath bombs, so it’s very easy to distract him during baths. Most times, he doesn’t even notice Jack taking too long to wash his crotch and bum, unless Jack purposefully rubs the washcloth over his butthole over and over until his baby is all bothered, whining and looking up at him with a confused pout.

“I need to make sure that you’re clean, baby,” the Daddy assures the sub, lifting Rhys’ hips up with one hand and pushing the tip of one finger with the washcloth into his butthole. Rhys yelps, immediately starting to cry. Jack coos at him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Shh, hush baby, it only takes a second,” he promises as he wiggles his fingers slightly, getting Rhys’ rim aggravated and sensitive.

“There, there, it’s over now,” he soothes, wrapping his arms around the sobbing man. “Let’s get out of the bath and make lunch, okay?” he suggests, getting the baby’s attention. He can hear his stomach rumble at the mention of food, and he smiles.

Jack pulls the plug on the drain and gets a fresh towel for his baby, picking him up easily and carrying him to the other side of the bathroom, sitting him on the closed lid of the toiled while he dries him off. Then he wraps him into another, dry towel and carries him to the bedroom. He lets Rhys sit on the fluffy rug while he gathers clean clothes for him and Rhys bussies himself with sucking on his thumb.

Coming back with a clean nappy and a onesie, Jack gently pushes Rhys to lie on his back and begins to put the nappy on him, not without sprinkling a hefty dose of baby powder on his butt first. When Rhys is dressed into his orange onesie – he is a fox today – and equipped with his paci, Jack carries him to the kitchen, putting Rhys down in the corner where he has some toys to entertain him while Jack cooks. They have the whole day for themselves today, so Jack is planning on keeping him close.

“What would you like for lunch, baby boy?” he asks, watching Rhys take out his paci and suckle on his thumb instead as he thinks.

“Pasta!” the younger man decides. He rarely asks for anything else.

“Alright!” the Daddy agrees, unwilling to argue with his sub. He takes the chef’s liberty with the meal, cooking up a different pasta dish than the last time, since Rhys didn’t give him anything specific.

Half an hour later, Jack has Rhys seated in his lap and they are eating spaghetti carbonara. Rhys eats so fast that his Daddy has to often remind him to slow down, and his bowl is empty long before Jack’s plate is. He tries to lick his bowl clean, but Jack takes it away and puts him back into the playing area. When he returns to the table, he notices Rhys’ pout.

He understands that it’s hard for Rhys to understand why he is getting so little food. Only milk for breakfast, small portions of lunch, fruit for a snack and same small portion for dinner and then milk before bed. It leaves him feeling hungry. But it won’t take much longer and Jack will get him to the ideal weight, and then Rhys can begin to eat normally (given that he keeps the ideal weight, of course).

“So, what do you want to do today? We’ve got the whole day for ourselves!” Jack crouches in front of Rhys, overplaying his excitement. There are some activities that he enjoys more than others, but it can’t be always him choosing what they do, or the younger man would not be happy.

“Cartoons!” Rhys decides, mirroring his Daddy’s excitement. “Can we watch cartoons? Please, Daddy, please!”

“Of course we can!” Jack nods his head, internally suffering. He hopes that Rhys picks something good and not one of the extremely annoying movies with squeaky, colourful animals and nonsensical plots.

They move to the living room and Jack builds a small pillow fortress for them, much to Rhys’ delight. They put on one of the at least slightly entertaining movies and not even two minutes in, Rhys gets distracted. He starts putting several things in his mouth – his paci, his fingers, some of the toys that got discarded in the living room yesterday. Jack stops him whenever Rhys tries to play with something he shouldn’t, like the TV remote, an empty whiskey bottle that he didn’t get rid of since he finished it yesterday, a piece of chocolate that Rhys found underneath the sofa, but otherwise he allows it.

Dissatisfied with sucking at different objects, Rhys turns towards his Daddy roughly in the middle of the movie, begging for a cookie. Seeing as Rhys was relatively good that day, Jack allows it, picking up the discarded bottle and some other trash while he goes to the kitchen to retrieve one chocolate chip cookie. He returns not even a minute later, but Rhys had already managed to do something mischievous, the pillow fortress suddenly collapsed.

“What have you done to our castle, Princess?” Jack asks, frowning.

“N-nothing,” Rhys lies. Jack doesn’t like it when he lies, but he lets it slide, seeing that Rhys’ lip is trembling and the loss of their fortress is enough of a punishment for him.

They sit on the ruins of the fallen castle while Rhys nibbles at his cookie and continue to watch the movie. When Rhys finishes eating, licking melted chocolate off his fingers, Jack helps him drink a glass of water that he also brought from the kitchen. But Rhys jerks away suddenly at a loud sound in the TV, and most of the water spills over his onesie.

“Of, for the love of—!” Jack swears, putting the now empty glass away. He reaches for a box of paper tissues but then gives up on those, knowing that there is no saving the clothes. He looks into the sub’s wide eyes, seeing tears already forming, and takes a deep breath to collect himself.

“Let’s get you out of the wet clothes, okay?” he says calmly. “Nothing’s happened, baby boy. It’s just water, don’t cry.”

Rhys is still sniffling when he is stripped of the wet clothes and dried with a couple tissues, but he brightens up when Jack blows a raspberry on his belly. After hearing his baby’s giggles, even the Dom calms down and they enjoy the rest of the movie.

Rhys insists that they watch the sequel, too, so Jack reluctantly puts it on. The sequel is terribly boring, however, and he loses focus while Rhys gets absolutely enthralled by the cartoon. He spends the next thirty minutes checking on Hyperion on his ECHO, but when he sees that nothing is burning, he loses interest in that too. His gaze falls upon Rhys once more, and his patience runs out, better ideas of fun blooming in his mind.

First, Jack adjusts their positions, pulling Rhys into his lap, wrapping one arm around his chest in a way that could be described as a loose hug but is also a precaution, stopping the sub from trying to flee. Rhys seems content with the change, leaning into Jack and not diverting his attention from the TV.

Jack’s free hand slides down the boy’s torso to his nappy, cupping his sex through it. That has Rhys squirming, subconsciously trying to pull away, but Jack doesn’t allow him to escape his touch.

“How is your nappy, baby? Is it wet? Do you need a clean one?” he asks, hiding his true intentions.

Rhys hesitates and Jack knows that he is blushing. Then he shakes his head.

“No? Are you sure?” the older man asks, hand sneaking to the hem of the soft cotton material. Rhys tries to shy away, but Jack is much stronger, much bigger and insistent. He wiggles his hand into the nappy through the leg hole, feeling for Rhys’ dick. He hums, noting that it’s dry and his baby wasn’t lying, but proving that wasn’t his real motif anyway.

“Hmm, you were right. Are you Daddy’s big boy, big enough that you don’t need to wear nappies anymore?” he asks, faking excitement. Rhys nods his head automatically. “We’ll take it off, then,” Jack says and pulls his hand out to open the nappy.

“D-daddy?” Rhys whimpers, turning his head to look at the older man. “W-what are you doing?” he asks, but he doesn’t fight it when Jack pulls the nappy off him and discards it on the heap of wet clothes.

“Now, that’s better, like a big boy…” Jack hums, hugging his baby and kissing him soothingly. “Are you a big boy?” Again, Rhys nods. “And do you want to play with Daddy like big boys do?”

Rhys squirms in his lap, shaking his head weakly. “I-I d-don’t know, Daddy… I-I don’t like it,” he whines.

“Yes, you do,” Jack argues, wrapping his hand around Rhys’ dick against his protests. “You always come all over my hand, and that wouldn’t happen if you didn’t like it.” He begins to jerk the younger man off, easily working him to hardness even as he keeps trying to push the older man’s hand away.

Fed up with the fight, Jack grabs Rhys’ wrist and immobilises his arm against his chest and then uses his legs to forcibly spread Rhys’ more open, stopping all protests. Soon, small moans begin to spill from the sub’s lips among his sniffles and whimpers, and his dick begins to twitch, longing for a release.

“That’s a good boy, look at you!” Jack coos. “You’re being so good for me baby, letting me play with you and enjoying it. That’s my good boy.”

Rhys comes with a muffled cry, panting and writhing in Jack’s arms. When he comes down from his orgasm, he begins to cry, confused and shivering in his Daddy’s lap.

“Oh, what happened, baby?” Jack asks with concern as if he didn’t just molest the younger man. “Why are you crying, Rhysie? You did so good, I’m proud of you. There is no reason to cry.”

Realising that words won’t help, Jack scoops Rhys up in his arms and carries him into his room where he cleans him off on the changing table and dresses him in a long shirt and panties. It almost looks like Rhys was wearing a dress, and Jack really likes that idea. He would like to see Rhys in skirts more often, but the younger man doesn’t want them, going as far as to use his safeword to avoid wearing them (and that is a big deal because Jack is sure that on most days, Rhys doesn’t even remember that a safeword exists anymore, too submerged in their play). But he will get him there, eventually. He plays the sub like fiddle.

They don’t return to the movie. Rhys eats his snack and then uses the potty, and in the meantime, Jack gets an urgent message from Hyperion, a matter that he needs to tend to immediately. He can solve the problem from his home office, so he heads there, telling Rhys to be nice.

Not even five minutes later, Rhys crawls through the door into Jack’s study, peering at him curiously with big eyes. He is not allowed to touch anything in the room but it’s tempting.

“What’s up, baby? Do you wanna help Daddy work?” Jack asks, smiling kindly even though he is beginning to feel a little frustrated.

Rhys nods eagerly; he falls for it every time. He crawls towards Jack, letting himself be picked up and sat in his Daddy’s lap.

Having the sub close helps Jack relax a great deal, and he focuses on work for a bit, letting Rhys touch some of the stuff on his desk. When the baby’s hand becomes too adventurous, he distracts him from the expensive and fragile equipment by sliding his own hand up Rhys’ thigh.

“D-daddy?” Rhys stutters, squirming to get the hand away. Jack’s thick fingers are resting against his balls; it’s that far up on his leg, a touch far form innocent.

“Hush, baby, Daddy’s working,” Jack silences him, kneading his thigh. He can almost wrap his hand around it; Rhys is so tiny. And when he grabs him above the knee, his fingers not only wrap around the whole leg but also overlap a little.

Continuing to mindlessly feel Rhys up, Jack is able to identify the problem in the fault in security that was reported to him. He will be able to fix that quite easily, so he takes a break from work to pay some attention to the man in his lap.

“How are you, Rhysie? Are you helping Daddy?” he asks, ruffling his hair with the hand that isn’t currently pushing its way into the younger man’s underwear.

“Uh-huh,” Rhys nods, smiling briefly before he turns unsure again. “W-what are you doing, Daddy?” he asks, whining.

“Just need your help, baby,” Jack explains. “Don’t worry about nothing. You will just help Daddy think clearly, so he doesn’t do any mistakes when working. You wouldn’t want Daddy to make mistakes, would you?” he asks, squeezing Rhys’ thigh.

“N-no,” the younger man stammers. “B-but how a-am I h-helping?” he asks.

“Oh, I’ll show you,” the CEO assures him, waiting for that exact moment to push his hand higher into Rhys’ underwear. The sub whines, trying to close his legs as his Daddy’s fingers inch towards his hole.

“N-no,” Rhys denies weakly. “N-not that, please Daddy!”

“Ah-ta-ta,” Jack tuts at him, forcing his legs open and pushing one finger dry into Rhys’ hole. “You said you would help, so be a good boy and _help_ , and _don’t make me force you_.”

Rhys sobs but stops struggling so much, letting out pitiful sounds when Jack continues to finger him dry. Even with the additional pain, his body soon begins to relax, making it easier for Jack to push his finger deeper. He pulls out when satisfied and forces his fingers into the sub’s mouth.

“Suck,” he orders sternly, fucking Rhys’ mouth with his fingers until he begins to gag, saliva escaping from his mouth. When his fingers are sufficiently covered in the fluid, he pushes his hand back into Rhys’ underwear, pushing two fingers into his hole.

Jack loves the sounds that Rhys makes in situations like this. Whimpers, cries and moans that make him ask himself if Rhys is really enjoying it or not. Not that he _really_ cares, but he is curious.

Having Rhys used to the stretch of two fingers, Jack considers getting him more lube. He likes to take Rhys with spit only, adding a slight burn to the delicious sensation of fucking that too tight ass. But today, Rhys seems to be clenching up especially hard, so Jack has mercy for both the sub and his own dick and retrieves a lube bottle from his desk drawer. It’s suspiciously light in his hand.

His suspicion is proven true when he only manages to squeeze a pathetic little blob of lubricant from the bottle. He shrugs and spreads it over his hard dick evenly, hoping that it’s enough. He can always have Rhys patched up if he tears, but that rarely happens, he is very resilient.

Pushing the panties to the side, Jack lowers the boy onto his dick slowly, ignoring his cries and pleas to stop. It only makes it better for him. He doesn’t stop pulling Rhys down and impaling him on his length until the boy is sitting in his lap again, shivering and crying. A perfect little cockwarmer.

“Now, that’s it, that’s a good boy,” he coos, wiping Rhys’ tears away gently. “You did so good, baby, I can already feel myself focusing better. Just stay here and continue helping me, okay?”

Not waiting for an answer, Jack returns to his work. He quickly fixes the code that was causing the fault, running some tests and simulations. Rhys keeps him hard with all the writhing and squeezing down that he does while crying silently, and whenever Jack feels himself going soft, he thrusts into his baby’s body a couple times.

When he is sure that everything is fixed, Jack uploads the code and informs the employees who reported it that it is done. Then he focuses on his baby again, wrapping his large hands around his waist and lifting him up.

“You did so good,” he praises, slowly moving Rhys up and down on his cock. He changes the position a little, moving his hands on the younger man’s thighs and pulling his knees up to his chest, using them as leverage as he continues to fuck even deeper into him. It is a little too dry, but Jack doesn’t mind.

He continues to whisper praise into Rhys’ ear, things like _perfect little baby_ and _so tight_. The sub continues to cry and whimper, begging his Daddy to stop, but Jack can see clearly when he looks down that Rhys is hard, his dick leaving a wet patch on his shirt.

When his arms grow tired, because not even Handsome Jack is strong enough to lift an adult man like he weights nothing, Jack puts Rhys on the floor on his back, fucking his hole at a brutal pace until the sub is screaming.

“D-daddy! Stop, stop, please stop! You’re hurting me, Daddy!” Cries and pleas well-practised and agreed-upon in advance, as they both found out at the beginning of their relationship that nothing ruins a good sex like being hit by a flashback. Rhys never uses the same words that Jack used to scream when his grandma was abusing him, and Jack never says the things that Rhys’ father said to him. They dance around each other’s trauma in the most wicked dance in existence.

Thick fingers wrap around the sub’s cock, and he comes all over his belly, sobbing in sensitivity. Jack soon follows, pumping his seed deep into the young body before he collapses on top of him, panting.

For a long while, Rhys’ crying is the only sound filling the room. Big tears continue to roll down his pink, puffy cheeks and his lip quivers. He looks fantastic, almost making Jack want to do more, push even further. But he is satisfied for now, so he gets off the floor and scoops Rhys up in his arms.

“Don’t cry, baby boy,” he soothes, walking to the baby’s room. “We’ll clean you up, okay?”

This time, Jack doesn’t bother putting clean clothes on Rhys. With two outfits ending up in the laundry within the span of a couple hours, he decides that it is a no clothes day.

Dressed in his nappy only and nibbling on another cookie, Rhys sits in the living room and watches cartoons while Jack cooks dinner for them. They eat in the newly rebuilt pillow fortress and then watch another cartoon until Rhys falls asleep in Jack’s lap. The older man sets to carry him to his room, but the movement wakes the baby and his one hand weakly but urgently curls into his Daddy’s shirt.

“Daddy? I wanna sleep with you tonight,” he whines. “Please… Can I, please?”

Sighing, Jack agrees, changing the course. He brushes Rhys’ teeth and takes a quick shower while the baby makes himself comfortable in his bed. Then he goes to the kitchen to warm up a cup and a half of milk and half a cup of cum, just like his baby likes it. He pours it into the bottle and shakes it, so it mixes thoroughly, and then he returns to the bedroom.

While Rhys drinks his milk, he dozes off, eyes straining to remain focused on his Daddy. Jack peppers his face with small kisses, whispering his love to the younger man.

When the bottle is empty, Jack turns Rhys onto his side so he can hug him from behind, wrapping one arm around his thin waist and pushing his other hand into his nappy. Rhys babbles something incomprehensible, too sleepy to fight it as Jack pushes two fingers into his ass, stretching him to use him as a cock warmer for the night. His perfect little baby.


End file.
